Alagaesia!
by Unwilling and Unsworn
Summary: Or how two girls can screw up CP's epic. Well, erm... basically our alterego's get to go to Alagaesia... and create total havoc. Of course. Chapter eight: WE ATEN'T DEAD. Also? Brisingr spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**Unwilling: OK, I got bored in Social Studies, so I forced a plot bunny to bite me. So, don't kill Unsworn, because if you do, then there will be one less slash writer in the world. And you wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?**

* * *

Trees. Lots of trees. That is what the eye normally focuses on in Greenpeace's backyard. The birds were cheeping, the crickets were deafening, and a young lady was whingeing. 

"Why don't you have any sakura trees?' This came from the aforementioned young lady, one with barely-visible red streaks in her hair. 'I want a sakura tree!"

'I know, I know, Lyr-hime.'

"Don't call me Lyr! Well, you can, as long as you spell it with an e on the end…"

"What, as in Lyre? The instrument?"

"Ya!"

"…I'll just call you Lyra."

* * *

Now, the two girls were on the computer. Or, rather, Greenpeace was on the computer while Lyra sat beside her looking disgusted. 

"Greenpeace, _why_ do you have to write Galby/Morzan? It disturbs me."

"That's why I write it."

"Sadist."

"I wish…"

At this statement, Lyra rolled her eyes. She reached up over Greenpeace's head and pulled down her copies of Eragon and Eldest. "Can you please show me exactly _where_ it says that Daddy and Morzan had an affair?"

"Ok, _Lyre._ A: What is it with you and having Galby as your father? B: You know damn well that it isn't in the books, but I draw my own conclusions."

"Yeah, yeah, what ever…"

Greenpeace sighed. Then she perked up and said, "Pink is a happy colour!"

Frowning, Lyra asked, "I thought you changed it to 'Urple is the colour of doom!'"

"I know, but this one annoys you more."

Now it was Lyra's turn to sigh. Which she did very dramatically, seeing that she once spent half a drama lesson learning the proper way to sigh. "I wish I could go to Alagaesia and marry Murtagh…"

"Who doesn't?" Greenpeace blinked. "Go to Alagaesia, I mean. I don't wanna marry Murt! I like Morzy better."

"Do you mind? I was actually trying to get Eric Idle to appear in drag and whisk me off to Urubaen!"

Greenpeace decided that now would be the time to back away.

Lyra tried again. "I only wanna go to Alagaesia! I only wanna marry Murtagh-sama!"

_POOF!_

Eric Idle appeared dressed as a fairy godmother. "And so you shall!" he said gently, tapping Lyra on the head. Just before she disappeared, she grabbed Greenpeace, and then stared at the cloud of sparkles that had encircled them.

"Pretty…"

**

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Unwilling: Well, that's all I'm willing to write at the moment. Erm… Unsworn has decided to remain silent and leave the author's notes to me. **

And yes, we do know that this is short.

**PS: We don't own anything! Except for Lyra and Greenpeace…who are OC's...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Unwilling: Meheheheh… I had a lot of sugar today…**

**Unsworn: I got high in Math today…**

**Unwilling: I got to throw paper planes in Math today!**

**Unsworn: School sucks.**

**Unwilling: We no ownie. If we did, you be scarededed very muchly.**

**Unsworn: Also, no-one appreciates my love for a) Sulla, b) Patroclus-sama, and c) Galby/Morzan...(cries.)** **If we did own, Sulla would be in it, and Morz-sama would be alive and sleeping with Galby-san.**

**Unwilling: Ewww…**

* * *

The two girls had appeared in front of a pavilion-tenty thing that was decorated with a twisting flame. A palace loomed in the background, dominating the sky.

Greenpeace looked around interestedly, noticing the large amount of armoured soldiers who were coming towards her. 'Er… Lyra…"

"SQUEE!" Lyra shouted, jumping up and down and being totally genki. "We're in Uru'baen!"

Greenpeace said Lyra's name again, and, when that met with no response, destroyed most of Lyra's few remaining brain cells.

"Ow! What was that for?" Lyra finally noticed the soldiers. "Oh. Meep."

Greenpeace closed her eyes and said a prayer to whatever gods were listening. Maybe Helzvog...

When she opened her eyes again, all she could see were spears. With a few swords poking through. And let's not forget the archers at the back.

"Lyra…" Greenpeace began haltingly, "For once I agree with you. Meep."

* * *

And so the two fangirls were dragged to the palace. Well, dragged in a relative sense. Greenpeace was prodded by the butt of a spear, while Lyra had to be restrained.

"But you don't understand! I have to see my daddy!" she was yelling, but her cries were unheeded.

"Lyra, you will get to see your 'daddy.' It's just that you won't be seeing him as soon. This way you get to enjoy the lovely scenery."

Much to the relief of the soldiers, Lyra slowed down. Looking at the 'lovely scenery,' her eyes glazed over and she said, "pretty…" which disturbed the soldiers as the only scenery around were Urgals and Urgals killing or torturing people.

Greenpeace glared at Lyra, and whapped her. "Stop scaring the nice soldiers!"

This caused the soldiers to be even more disturbed, since many of their companions were busy copying the Urgals. Greenpeace turned to one of her captors. "So, how's the pay?"

When the soldier looked at her with an expression like a prehistoric something-or-other, she explained, "You know, are they paying you at least three crowns per hour? Cuz if they aren't, you can sue..."

"We get twenty-eight crowns a month," said the soldier dumbly. "Join the King's army and you will receive great honour."

Lyra blinked. "Hey, Greenpeace? Daddy really does underpay them."

"Right," Greenpeace said, eyes sparking. "You, my dear fellow--" she paused to glare at Lyra, who was laughing uncontrollably at her words, "need to grow yourself a backbone."

The soldier wisely refused to comment, though he did jab Greenpeace harder than necessary, obviously wanting the king to just kill them already.

Lyra sniggered. Then she stopped, sighed a sigh, and fainted dead away.

Greenpeace collapsed as she took the brunt of her friend's weight. None of the soldiers helped her. However, lying on her back gave her an unobstructed view of the sky, which now had a red dragon occupying it. And she was willing to bet that there was a small figure perched on the dragon's back.

_Murtagh…_

**

* * *

Unwilling: (drools) Murtagh…my Murtagh…my Precious…**

**Unsworn: …**

**Unwilling: A cookie to everyone who can guess which of us is which! Though I think it's rather obvious—I mean, only one of us would willingly go to the palace...**

**Unsworn: Uh... Go me! Soldiers rights!**

**Unwilling: OK then, I think you just gave away who you are… RnR everyone!**

**Unsworn: Pink is a happy colour!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Unwilling: I am a sadist! I hurted people today!**

**Unsworn: (rants about Sulla)**

**Unwilling: ...**

**Unsworn: (continues ranting about Sulla)**

**Unwilling: (backs away)**

**Unsworn: Definitely don't own. Definitely.**

**Unwilling: (cries)**

* * *

What happened next seemed like a dream to Greenpeace. Murtagh and Thorn smoothly landed a few metres away from Greenpeace and the soldiers. As he dismounted, Lyra suddenly came to, and saw her lust object coming towards her.

And fainted again.

This time, a strong hand stopped her fall. Murtagh looked at the gathered soldiers. "Well? What are you waiting for! Back to the palace!" The soldiers quickly collected their wits and started marching towards the palace in double time.

Greenpeace watched Murtagh with wide eyes, gazing hungrily at the crimson sword by his side. If there was such a thing as a perfect souvenir, Zar'roc would have been it. That is, of course, if one was unable to bring back the _wearer _of the sword...

"I'm really sorry about Lyra, Murtagh-sama," she said, dropping into a clumsy curtsy.

Murtagh looked confused. "Sama?" he asked.

Greenpeace flushed. "Er... elda? Does that make sense?"

Murtagh nodded. "Is Lyra your friend?" he asked, indicating the limp and unresponsive form of the girl.

"Well, yes...I guess you could say that she's my...friend." _Fellow obsessee is more like it..._ Greenpeace thought.

Just then, Lyra murmured. She looked like she was about to get up, but then she noticed her position, relaxed, and sighed slightly. Greenpeace's eyes narrowed.

Just as Greenpeace was about to whap Lyra, Murtagh started walking back to Thorn. "I suppose you were on your way to the palace..." he said, then trailed off as Lyra, unable to restrain herself any longer, let out an ear-splitting squee.

Murtagh dropped her. As Lyra hit the ground with a hard _THUNK_, Greenpeace winced.

"Ow! That hurt, you know!" Lyra turned to look at Murtagh, who started in shock as he saw her cat-eye contacts. "Anyway..." she said brightly, "off to the palace we go!"

* * *

The trip to the castle was...short. To put it into more descriptive language, Thorn took off, flew for a minute and then landed in the palace courtyard.

Leading them into the marble shade of the palace, Murtagh was the victim of many a hiss, boo, and even a spit. When the spitter had finished his business, Lyra slowly advanced upon him, a catgut lasso in her hand as she led him to a dark corner. Greenpeace and Murtagh winced as they heard a gargling sound which was abruptly cut off at the sound of something sharp entering something soft and squishy.

Lyra strolled back, a self-satisfied grin on her face. "What did you do to him?" Greenpeace hissed. "Is he alive?"

Lyra smirked. "Yup, but I bet he wishes that he wasn't." At Greenpeace's questioning look, Lyra elaborated, "I...yunno...neutered him."

Murtagh paled. Greenpeace merely looked interested. "How?"

"Well, first of all, I used my lasso to cut off circulation. Then I chopped it off with my spife." Lyra brandished the handle end of a spoon, half of which was sharpened to a razor-like edge.

Swallowing nervously, Murtagh began to hurry the girls towards the throne room.

**

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Unwilling: Well, Unsworn has left me all alone to write something random, so... GO FROGS!**

**Don't forget to leave a review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Unwilling: I HATE SCIENCE!**

**...And math. May I ask what importance the Fibonacci sequence will have in my future life?**

**Anyways, I wrote most of this in science. I'm thinking of doing a cameo chapter, so all you reviewers can spend a few minutes with all our favourite villains. And maybe the other, unimportant characters, e.g. Eragon, Arya, Roran, etc. But I'm not too sure. I'll take a vote, OK? (That should get us more reviews.) Just clickie the purty button at the bottom of the screen and say whether or not there will be a cameo.**

**And, as for Unsworn, she is not on the net, so she has no idea about anything. And she asked for the Mary-Sue thing, OK?**

**Oh, yeah, she would like to ask people to lay off the G/M thing, so let's all be mean and bug her about it!**

Lyra, Greenpeace and Murtagh entered the throne room, Murtagh with hushed reverence, Greenpeace swallowing nervously and Lyra jumping up and down in excitement.

King Galbatorix was an imposing figure—his black eyes glittered with malice, his robe was cut to perfection, his lips were twisted into a cruel smirk—and he stood at exactly one meter tall.

Lyra looked shocked for a moment, then recovered, yelled "DADDY!" and double-glomped him.

"Oof."

Murtagh rushed to help Galbatorix back up, but Lyra held up her spife threateningly. Murtagh quickly backed away.

Lyra said, "Daddy, how good it is to finally see you! I have searched far and wide, for uncountable years, over uncharted lands—"

"Never mind that," Greenpeace said rather rudely. She took out a notebook and pen, hauled Lyra to her feet, and smiled charmingly at the king.

"Sir, is it true that you and Morzan had an affair?"

If it was possible, Murtagh paled even more. His eyes flicked around the room, looking for the nearest exit.

"What? N-no! We were—just...friends!" The king spluttered. "Anyway, how would that work?"

Greenpeace sighed at his ignorance. "I guess I'll have to show you."

"Greenpeace," Lyra hissed. "Don't do it! You know what happens when you do that!"

_"Shut up," said Greenpeace, her perfectly pitched voice vibrating in anger and rage... _

_She tossed back her hair, which rippled down her back in shimmering waves..._

_Lifting up her slim, perfectly shaped fingers, Greenpeace took a deep breath, the silver swirling in her deep purple eyes a testament to the power that lay within her slim yet powerful body..._

Lyra yelled out a savage and incomprehensible war cry and body slammed Greenpeace.

"Maximus!"

Greenpeace stopped, the purple and wilver fading from her body. "Cacat. Thanks, Lyr. Sorry sir..."

Lyra felt the need to explain what had just happened. "Well, daddy, Greenpeace was gonna...kinda...resurrect Morzan-sama. And she chose the worst possible way to do it. I mean, she could have just teleported us to the Old Kingdom... but nooo—"

Greenpeace whapped her.

"She had to go and turn into a SUE!"

Greenpeace facepalmed. "Yeah, uh, it's a thing. Lyr, you wanna go to the Old Kingdom?"

"Well, yeah, preferably during the time that Orannis was living..."

"Okay... Eric?" The aforementioned fairy, uh, transvestite, appeared in a cloud of bright pink sparkles.

"Your wish is my command," he—she—it said, bowing.

"Uh, find some random necromancer, please? We need to raise Morzan from the dead."

"And so you shall!" He—she—oh, whatever! Waved a bright pink wand and in yet another cloud of bright pink sparkles stood Hedge, evil necromancer of the highest order. Even though he was technically dead, but the Eric-thing seemed to be able to bypass canonical disabilities such as, er, being dead.

Lyra squee'd, and headed over for a glomp. Hedge raised his sword. Lyra suddenly went over to talk to Greenpeace.

Greenpeace whapped her. Yes, again. Lyra has lost around ¾ of her brain cells due to Greenpeace's whapping, but Greenpeace claims she wasn't using them anyway.

"Mr. Hedge, sir, um, I'm a Free Mage. Will you help me?"

"Free Mage?"

"Yes, I control Free Magic." Greenpeace began to glow Sue-ishly. Hedge quaked. Apparently he'd seen this sort of thing before, and they hadn't ended well for him. E.g., he'd gotten his butt kicked by a bunch of adolescents with eating disorders.

"What would you have me do?"

"Uh, summon," Greenpeace held up a badly-drawn fanart of Morzan, "this dude, please?"

Galbatorix stared. "Who is that?"

Greenpeace looked sheepish. "Uh, that's a really bad picture of your lover. Sorry."

Galbatorix looked furtively from side-to-side. "Islanzadi?"

"NO! Morzan. He's cooler."

Hedge nodded, and rang a bell. Lyra tapped him on the shoulder. "Um...sir...don't you have to go into Death first?"

Hedge glared, and did so.

Lyra nodded happily. She liked it when big machomen did what she said.

Ice cracked. Hedge shivered, but no-one looked at him. All eyes were on the man that had appeared—Morzan.

"SQUEE!"

**Unwilling: Well... erm... I've had a review asking for a pig...so... it'll be in the next chappie, OK carthasis?**

**And all you wonderful reviewers, we :wub: you! Keep up the good work! Don't forget to vote on the cameo chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Unwilling: We apologise for the delay. You see, there's this thing called CLAMP, and, well, PRETTY!!!**

**Unsworn: And also Supernatural ate my brain, and Stargate, and the West Wing, and it was really Unwilling's baby to start with, and...**

**Unwilling: So, um, yeah. **

* * *

For once, the high-pitched noise had not issued from Lyra's mouth. Lyra, in fact, had earplugs in and was screaming, "My ears! My precious ears!"

Murtagh, Galbatorix and Hedge backed away from the fangirls. The newly-resurrected Morzan quickly followed suit. But, unfortunately, not quickly enough. Greenpeace had grabbed Lyra's punjab and had efficiently lasso'd Morzan, pulling him close.

Lyra couldn't resist a comment. "Ooh, kinky."

Greenpeace glared, and petted Morzan's head. "Shut up, " she said, and hummed something. Then she fiddled in her pocket for something--a vial containing liquid which she forced down the defenceless ex-Rider's throat.

"Now then, Lyra, go glomp your 'daddy' for me."

Lyra eagerly did so, then said, "shit. Now you're gonna ruin his beautiful heterosexuality! No! You can't have him!"

Greenpeace blinked. Morzan's eyes were glazed over. She whispered something in his ear, and undid the noose.

He ran straight for Galbatorix.

"What heterosexuality were we talking about?"

Lyra pulled out a spare punjab and waved her spife threateningly. "Daddy's."

"Too late, Lyr. Look." And, indeed the King wasn't exactly objecting as Morzan effectively stripped him down. In fact, he had a strange smile on his face.

Greenpeace smiled happily, looking rather like a cat that had got the cream. Lyra, on the other hand, looked extremely upset and was trying desperately to pull her "Daddy" and his new "special friend" apart.

Murtagh winced.

Hedge's eyes went back and forth like twin ping-pong balls.

Lyra gave up trying to restore her 'daddy's' virtue, and went to glomp Murtagh instead.

"Yunno, Murtagh, they do say that fathers should be role-models to their children..."

"And I also think that this story has sunk to a new low," Murtagh retorted.

Greenpeace was too busy staring at the King and his recently resurrected friend to retort.

Hedge said, "Does that count as necrophilia?"

Greenpeace said, "I don't care. It's pretty!"

Murtagh looked down, feeling wetness around his ankles.

Then he screamed, high and girly. "Ahh! Fangirl drool!"

Greenpeace said absently, "Sorry." and went to staring.

Lyra didn't bother with apologies. She launched herself at Murtagh and started pulling his clothes off with inhuman speed.

Murtagh-

* * *

**Thorn: I'm sorry, boys and girls, but this fic has exceeded its rating. The chapter shall end now. Good. And, uh, review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**U and U: **We would like you to know that Murtagh was Not Raped. At all. Because that is Incredibly BAD. Halfway through "proceedings" he realized he was desperately in love with Lyra and would remain so until the End of Time. This, however, does not in any way indicate that Lyra is a Sue. For one thing, Sues at least have a semblance of a brain. Lyra? Not so much.

**Unwilling: **I resemble that! But, hey. I GET MURTAGH!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

**Unsworn: **Run away while you can. Like, now. The bunnies will rule the world!

**Unwilling: **Dean Winchester is stupid.

**Unsworn: **)eyeroll( And now, what people came here to read! Yes, there is actually a story. And yes, it is made of typos. There is..er. Bad things in this chapter. You know what we mean. And you should probably start running now. Aren't you glad we don't own Alagaesia? Here. )thrusts fic(

* * *

"hi" sed lyra. She wavved to the adience. The adience waced back (A/n: rite, gys! U love me rite!!!???). Lyra sed anirgly, 'no one understands my pain. Except 4 evansence. They roxx'

Greenpeace said, "Oh, my god. Lyra. Is there something you need to tell me about?"

'sutff urself greenpce!!!! U SUCK!!!"

Greenpeace sighed. Then she whapped Lyra. This accomplished nothing. But it made her feel good.

Murtagh was staring at Lyra. "What. Just. Happened?" He asked, horrified. And yet, somehow hot.

Greenpeace waved a _something_ in Lyra's general direction. Lyra ignored the candy. "Oh, god. She's gone critical."

'waht are u takling about gp? Im alwaus beeen liuk this ev r since my rents deid n a feirya ccidnt!!!!! Now i mpoe nd listens 2 evansens. And cut!!!!!! ...my rms hrut.

Greenpeace turned around to the male onlookers. "She's gone 'Sue. She isn't even responding to chocolate. Murtagh? Hate to say this, but I think it might have something to do with you. Like, when you two...you know. Het sex? SO not my thing.

"Anyway, it probably made her a Sue. Her triggers are different to mine. And, you know, cruder."

"murtsgh???' lyar bouncedceded "i luv u u r hott lest hve babyz!'

Morzan looked up. Galbatorix couldn't; he was otherwise occupied. (No, seriously, get your minds out of the gutter, he was cleaning his throne. Yes. Cleaning.)

Morzan said, "Wha?"

He was still dazed. (He hit his head. When they were _cleaning_. Upstairs brains, people!)

Murtagh turned to Greenpeace. "How do we change her back? I think I prefered her as a bouncing psycho, to this. And I have a sword." He was menacing. His eyes were black. Like empty pits. Empty ones.

Greenpeace waved something red at him. "Not anymore!"

Murtagh went a peculiar shade of bright orange. Morzan broke off from what he was doing to say, "Hey! That's my sword!"

"Not anymore!" Murtagh and Greenpeace chorused. Then Murtagh realized he'd just said something in unison with a _fangirl _and started scraping at his mouth.

Morzan shrugged. "Oh well. Crappy sword anyway."

layr sed This iz supoosed to b aboot ME!!! murtag, i want a boy. Nd we cn name hmi after ur fahter!"

Greenpeace flinched. "Oh, this is...ew." She pulled up her sleeves purposefully. "I don't wanna!!! Make someone else do it! Ew."

She waded through the sprakles to where layr stood surrounded by balck butterfyls and dragnz.

"The power of Sparklypoo compels thee! Out, SUE!" Then Greenpeace blinked. "Oh, man. I just made this worse, didn't I?" lyra supn sroundd, flikin her hiar. It wass a glosy blak with bludredd highlites. It feel n waves ot hre waist. "I lovs thou murtdgh. I commandest thee to marry me aftre all i am teh kigns dauter'

Murtagh's face changed colour. It was now green. "I have to...go. Now. Right now. To—do something. Something urgent." His voice cracked. "That—involves saving Alagaesia? And lots of danger. I probably won't make it back."

He ran out of the room, cheeks ballooning.

Lrya sed, 'omg mi blovd is goin on a siucude misson to dfete th Vadren!!! NOOOO!!! I wll svae hmi!!!" nd she rna out f the room after him, hari flikernig liek cnadlelite. (a/N: Cos seh's just THAT KEWL)

"Right," said Greenpeace. "There's only one way to fix this. The power of slash! Sues hate that. Unless they're, you know, setting up the slash-people. Galbatorix, Morzan, prepare to do your duty!"

They looked at her.

She looked back at them, fanaticism burning in her eyes. "Okay. Maybe not. But it would be nice!...Okay, or not. Galbatorix, saddle your dragon."

He looked at her.

"Shruikan. Yeah. Though, you know...Right. Business. Sue rampaging. Shruikan. C'mon Morzan!"

And so the three of them rode Galbatorix's dragon—Shruikan!--and followed 'Sue-Lyra's trail**.  
**

* * *

**Unwilling: **OMG. We have a PLOT.

**Unsworn:** Yes. This is BAD THING. Since it will probably die now, considering our track records.

**Unwilling: **As you may have noticed, we've upped the rating. Guess why. Yup, that's right. Unsworn's pet obsession. Also, some... crude... jokes. That I TOTALLY didn't write!

**Unsworn:** Mmm-hmmm. So. See you guys around. Also, next chapter (or next next chapter, depending on the muses—muses: what muses?!) will be the **cameo.** So in your review please say what you would like to be called, a brief description of yourself, and who you'd like to hang out with. Character-wise. Though if you love 'Sue-Lyra, um...we can't do much for you. Except give you medication.

**Unwilling:** Also, you fellow Eragon-haters out there, you can PM us with ways to torture him.

Unsworn: Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Unwilling:** Hello you devoted fans out there!

**Unsworn:**Ahahahaha...fans...?

**Unwilling: **OK, people we blackmail into reading this. HI!!!

**Unsworn:** Um, we noticed Hedge was gone. This was not because of a plot hole. Really. We swear.

**Unwilling:** (nods) Yes, he got freaked by me and ran crying to the Old Kingdom where Lirael killed him etc. It was sad. We shall now have a moment of silence for the brave, dead necromancer.

**Unsworn:** OK, since we had exactly NO entries for the cameo chapter...there will be NO CAMEO CHAPTER!

**Unwilling: **(shockhorror!)

**Unsworn:** See, this is what happens when you DON'T REPLY TO THINGS. THEY DON'T HAPPEN.

**Unwilling:** I think Unsworn just broke the caps lock button... I have a confession to make. Yunno Lyra's 'Sue-spelling? That was me typing normally. Without spellcheck.

Ah, yes. Discalimer: As you can see, we are too stupid to even spell the word 'disclaimer.' Do you really think that we have the 'high IQ' needed to write such an 'original' story?

**Unsworn: **On with the fic!

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_(insert filler otherwise known as fic here)_

* * *

Jokes! We're just trying to up our word-count. Really! We _swear_.

* * *

Murtagh stumbled blindly through an unnamed forest. The map was not particularly close to hand.

His dragon, flying overhead, said, _OMG YOU IDIOT WHY ARE YOU NOT RIDING ME?!_

_Because I have to look like a dashing, romantic anti-hero._

_...Uh-huh. You sure it's not 'cause you're just really stupid?_

A thousand fangirls attacked.

Thorn thought quickly. _Or maybe it's to look really dashing and romantic?_

The fangirls were satiated.

A cry rose up from the forest, some ways behind the dashing, romantic Murtagh.

'murtsg? Hunny? Where ru?????? i lovs u nd i wna mary u nd u cnt goKILLING rusefl!!!!!"

Murtagh ran faster. _Uh, Thorn? That flying offer still open?_

Thorn looked into the hungry, desperate eyes of the fangirls. They whispered something to him. It was like a siren's song. Except less pretty. _The fangirls say, only if you take your shirt off. _

Murtagh ripped his shirt in half.

Half the fangirls imploded.

Thorn landed smoothly in front of Murtagh. _On, quick!_

Murtagh tripped over Thorn's tail and clambered onto his back, trailing mud as he went.

His abs were very nice too.

AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! i broke a hell!!!" lyar limped furiosuly towadr teh dargon, "MURTY!!!!!!!!!!!11 Ull ctach a CLOD!!! ...ncie abs, btw!1!!11one"

Thorn jumped in the air. Unfortunately, he forgot to unfurl his wings.

This was not his brightest idea.

Murtagh said, "Thorn!!!!"

Thorn said, _What? I can't help it—she makes me _crazy!!!

Murtagh clawed at his wrists. "I can't live like this!"

There was a swooping noise.

Then, "You don't have to! Come with us, Murtagh! ...We have cookies?"

Murtagh looked up into the eyes of his saviour—they were mismatched purple and brown.

"Oops," Greenpeace said, "Contact slipped."

Behind her were his father, recently resurrected, his father's...whatever..._friend_, and Shruikan.

He said, "Shruikan?"

Shruikan looked at him with insane eyes. ...They matched Lyra's almost perfectly—except for, you know, being like twenty times larger.

Murtagh took Greenpeace's hand.

Lyra took Murtagh's big toe.

Murtagh screamed like a girl.

Thorn bit Lyra in the...er...posterior.

And blinked at the unnecessary paragraphing.

Murtagh clambered up behind Greenpeace.

They flew away. Thorn managed to get off the ground, laughing at Lyra as he flew.

She screamed. It was a heart-rending sound.

ONG i brkoe a NAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL!!!!!'

"adn i musts og 2 het vAdren!!! my bluvd wil b teher!!!'

_Dun dun duhnnnnnnnnnnn..._

In the Varden's stronghold (wherever it was this week), Eragon shivered.

And Arya smiled. Her smile was oddly reminiscent of Lyra's.

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**Unwilling: **Reviews. Yes. We like those. (munches on reviews)

**Unsworn: **...(insert witty and persuasive comment here) Cameo chapter? Plzplzplzplz? (anime eyes)

**Unwilling:** Also... watch Potter Puppet Pals!!! Yay!!! BOTHER!!!

**Unsworn: **PS: We hate Emerald Tiara. :D

**Unwilling:** (nods) Have a rose! (Oh, and if that last comment comes off as spiteful and bitchy? That's 'cos it IS).


	8. Chapter 8

**Unwilling:** Um. I think Unsworn doesn't want to talk to me because I keep saying and linking to stuff about Doug Jones. If you don't know who he is, then _shame_.

**Unsworn: **-eyeroll- Let's not think about Doug Jones, because that way lies madness.

**Unwilling: **And, um, we know it's been a while. We're joining the procrastinator's club tomorrow.

**Unsworn:** If they can be bothered to organize a meeting.

**Unwilling: **Also, this now apparently happens post-Brisingr. Spoilers abound. You have been warned. Can Doug Jones please marry me.

**Unsworn:** Brisingr was funny.

**Unwilling:** Doug Jones!

**Unsworn:** Doug Jones does not own Inheritance. Neither do we. We don't have an unhealthy obsession with our thesauri.

**Unwilling: **Doug Jones!

* * *

After much flying and 'Sue running, everyone managed to reach the Varden. Murtagh hammered on the doors of their generic stronghold and screamed, "HELP! MAD 'SUE ON THE RAMPAGE!"

Nothing happened.

Greenpeace whispered something to him, and he raised his voice once more. "IT IS I, MURTAGH, THE ONE THAT YOU HATE! I HAVE BROKEN FREE OF THE KING'S HOLD ON ME AND NOW BRING HIM TO YOU AS A HOSTAGE! ALSO, CAN SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS FANGIRL OFF ME?"

After a moment, the doors opened inwards and Murtagh collapsed on the floor.

Roran stood in the entrance, clutching his hammer. He started forwards, angrily, with a muttered, "I'll get you, traitor--" and then noticed Greenpeace. "Eragon!" he shouted, "Nasuada! Arya! ANYONE?"

Greenpeace blinked. "Are you people seriously that gullible?"

Murtagh couldn't resist. "Yes, they are that stupid. And they wonder why we keep winning."

"Shut up," Roran said, "I'll smash you with my hammer."

"You and what army?" Murtagh snarked, but then Greenpeace grabbed his arm and tugged him forwards.

"We need to shut the doors," she said, sensibly, "there's a very dangerous person behind us. You can subdue us with unnecessary force directed at Murtagh later."

_This might not work_, said Thorn. _From what you've told me of these "Sues," she could probably find another, highly implausible way into the Varden._

"Oh, --, you're right. We also need salt, holy water and lemons," said Greenpeace.

Roran looked puzzled. "Lemons?"

"Yes. Lemons."

* * *

lyra walked gaerfly to eht vadrens drs. She ws so grcefl that is loked like sehs was sdanceing. She calld out in a muscil vocei, 'it is I, the the gr8 lyra. i hve cum 2 rscu mi hunni frm u!"

the drs opend 4 her (coz shes awsum.)

as she stped in2 d vardn s stronhld, ergon nd arya rn 2 meet roran. whn they neard lyr she screamd nd collpsd grcfuli on d flor.

"Hello, foul intruder," Eragon said, sword in hand, "what curses have you brought to rain upon my head?"

lyra grinned. "eragn!" she sadi. "its rly u? ur my brther-in-law 2b! we shld--"

Roran stepped forward neatly, and stuck a lemon in her mouth.

Murtagh blinked. "So what exactly is that supposed to do?"

"This," Greenpeace said. "Eragon, hi, nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."

Lyra thrashed, and started foaming at the mouth. Greenpeace grabbed her arms and held them.

Eragon blinked. "Well, I'm Eragon Shadeslayer. I'm the last free dragon rider, and I used to think my father was Morzan, the scum of Alagaesia, but now I know he was Brom, who tragically died too soon. I was made part-elf at the Agaeti Blodhren--"

Lyra started keening, a high-pitched noise that drilled into the ears of everyone standing around them. Her skin started to steam, faint purple sparks coming off her delicate fingernails.

Greenpeace gritted her teeth. "Keep going," she said, "tell us about your life's purpose."

Eragon perked up. "Well," he said, "I'm going to kill the king of Alagaesia, because he's evil and he's killed most of the people I love and caused severe pain to the rest. Look, I even have this really neat sword to kill him with; it bursts into flames when I say it's name."

The lemon burst. A stream of sparkles came off Lyra's skin, flew threw the air, and settled in Eragon's hair.

"Okay," Greenpeace said, "thanks for that. you can stop now."

Eragon looked slightly disappointed. "But I hadn't gotten to the part where he turned Murtagh evil! And Murtagh stole my old sword, which was not as good as my new sword anyway--"

Lyra got up awkwardly and slapped Eragon as hard as she could. He staggered to one side. "Never," she hissed, addressing the empty air where he had been, "never talk about my Daddy like that again! If you ever—what?"

Greenpeace turned her around until she was facing Eragon. "He's over there."

Lyra blinked. "Oh, --, my contacts are gone!" She walked slowly over to Eragon, with the air of a blind person. "As I was saying..."

"Wait!" Murtagh said. "She's normal again! Well, normal for her. How?"

"'Sues eat their own," Greenpeace said wisely. "It's hard to be a 'Sue. You have to make sure someone better doesn't come along, otherwise," she shrugged. "They take away your sparkle and add it to their own."

Murtagh looked sideways at Eragon. He seemed to be sparkling faintly.

"What about Arya?" Morzan asked, curiously. "Stop that," he added, turning to Galbatorix, whose hands were in... interesting places. "This is interesting."

Greenpeace shrugged again. "She and Ergy here are tied in 'Sueness, I guess."

Eragon, Roran and Arya started. They hadn't noticed the King and his new... friend.

Murtagh said, "Oh dear god. Are you two incapable of keeping your hands to yourselves?"

Morzan shot Galbatorix an exasperated look. "I'm not the one with the problem."

"Both of you are the ones with problems," Eragon squeaked. "Wait, Morzan?"

Morzan twirled, presenting himself. "In the flesh!" A pause. "Or...whatever."

_Whatever being the key word_, Thorn said. _Just be glad you weren't there in the egg-room._

"What?" Murtagh said, looking faintly green.

_Three times a week,_ Thorn said,_ I think it's what persuaded Saphira to hatch._

Eragon moved towards Galbatorix, and unsheathed his sword. Er, Brisingr. Swords are just too phallic for their own good. Lyra saw him, and tackled.

"Ow! What was that for? H-hey!" Eragon lay on the floor, spluttering ineffectually as Lyra took Brisingr off him.

"Ooh. Pyro sword."

Greenpeace's eyes widened. "Oh, no," she said. Someone take that away from her."

Arya moved quickly, like a swift wind through a field of corn. The only sign of her movement was the ripple in the air, and then she was standing over Lyra, with Brisingr in her hand.

Eragon's eyes glazed over. He stared at Arya, not moving. A tiny ribbon of drool fell out of his mouth.

"Gross," Greenpeace said. "Arya Drottningu, could you maybe give him back the sword?"

Lyra squirmed. "Could you maybe give _me_ back the sword?"

Everyone shuddered and said, "no."

Arya stepped carefully over Lyra, coming back to Eragon. "Here," she said, standing as far away from him as she could, and handed him Brisingr.

"Uh," Eragon said, fingers closing over the hilt. "Thank you. Sorry about that."

"Yeah," she said, "whatever."

Murtagh snickered. "Eragon and Arya, sitting in a tree"

Roran chimed in.

Greenpeace hit both of them. "Guys, that's incredibly insensitive. That poor tree!"

"Psst! Greenpeace!" Lyra beckoned. Greenpeace obligingly came. "We're in the Varden. We're near Elva. We could totally destroy this place. We could BURN THE WORLD!!"

"Uh, Lyra?" Said Greenpeace once her ears had stopped ringing. "I don't think you should have yelled out that last bit. But Elva! Let's go find her and feed her soup!"

_so_, thorn said, w_ho is this elva? and does she deserve this?_

* * *

"so," unwilling replied. "what are these capital letters? and do you know how to use them?"

_-- you_, unsworn said,_ i have the soul of a poet. i am the reincarnation of e.e. cummings. (if he's dead. if he's not, um, ...double check that.)_

"well," unwilling said, "i'm hyper. so there."

"also," unwilling added, "im fully using these as our snarky comments after the story."

**Note from Unwilling:** The perils of writing a story over the internets, boys and girls. Also, the lemon thing is a Pratchett reference. See, in the Discworld, there are many different local variations of vampire, and there are slight differences in how you kill them. The vamps from Klotz (I think?) in Uberwald can be killed by shoving a lemon in their mouth and then chopping off their head. We also never got around to using the salt and holy water. Ah well. We'll save it for another time.


End file.
